


Stability

by Sparsile



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-05
Updated: 2012-11-05
Packaged: 2017-11-18 00:39:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/554977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sparsile/pseuds/Sparsile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their relationship may not be what you call stable, but it worked fine nonetheless.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stability

**Author's Note:**

> Migrating from FF to here is hard.
> 
> I have a problem. It's called cliche ending syndrome. I apologize.

Some days were a little difficult. Well, to say a little would definitely be an understatement.

Some days we fight. It's usually over something incredibly stupid like if there's only a tiny bit of milk left, but it's not completely gone and you can't use it for anything worthwhile like a bowl of cereal or a satisfying drink. Or if someone leaves a light on when no one is in that room. Or not putting the cap back on the toothpaste. It's little things like that that usually end up with one of us yelling and the other giving a glare that could make team rocket want to crawl into fetal position and is then followed by doors slamming and someone sleeping on the couch or even outside.

With no blankets or sleeping bag.

In the rain.

And that person was usually me.

Some days, Red watches too many wrestling matches. It's those days that end with Red perfecting the German Suplex and me overdosing on pain killers. I've considered blocking the channels that give him such ideas. I would have by now, but I don't think that would end very nicely either.

Some days were okay. This was nice because I deserve a break from being a human punching bag.

Some days I'm practically drowning in paperwork. My room looks like a bomb went off, I'm utterly exhausted, the bags under my eyes are practically designer, and I end up only getting one to two hours of sleep a night if I am even that lucky. The day often ends with me passed out in some strange place. I always seem to wake up with a blanket draped over me, and then get scolded.

_"Stop sleeping on the floor. You're going to get sick."_

_"No I'm not."_

I ended up getting sick.

_"I told you."_

_"Shut up! It's probably because you keep making me sleep outside."_

_"You wouldn't be sleeping outside if you didn't keep forgetting to buy the orange juice."_

Red, even though he was mad, still felt slightly guilty so he decided to play nurse. As flattered as I was at the thought behind it, turns out Red is actually a terrible nurse. He only ended up making things worse and putting me in the hospital for a couple days.

I forgave him.

Eventually.

I mean, it's the thought that counts.

However, Red is not allowed to touch the stove at all. Also, no other cooking appliances such as microwaves and toasters without supervision.

Some days the weather is out to get us with its evil heat waves. I can take it, but Red, who is accustomed to the cold, hates anything hotter than 60 degrees and usually lies on the floor all day in just his underwear while forcing me to get out all the fans I have, raising the electricity bill in the process, and go to the store to buy an unhealthy amount of popsicles.

A lot of days I want to quit my job and run off to a mountain for years, leaving all responsibilities behind. But let's be realistic here, not all of us can't do that.

Some days Red just randomly disappears for a varied amount of time, up to who knows what.

It was one of the first few times when he unexpectedly dropped off the face of the earth for quite some time that he thoroughly scared me half to death. It was also one of the very few times when I seriously hit Red.

_"Don't you ever scare me like that again, idiot!"_

We decided to at least leave a note behind before leaving without notice.

Red likes the idea of communicating through post-it notes. Maybe it's easier for him, I don't really know, but whatever works, right? It's usually nothing of much importance, just things to pick up at the store, TV programs to record, trivial stuff like that. But it's the things like that that make me smile a little and maybe my day won't be complete crap.

Sometimes Red likes to get in touch with his artistic side. I'll wake up to find notes on the fridge that have the usual day to day nonsensical boring things, but they also have little doodles on them. I remember the first few times this happened I was doubled over in laughter because Red, although he thinks he is the next Picasso, has the drawing skills of a kindergartener. However Red did not seem to share my humor.

_"What is that? A tree?"_

_"It's Pikachu."_

_"Ow! Why'd you kick me in the shin?!"_

Now I have to keep my laughter to myself lest my body pay the price.

For his birthday, I got him one of those drawing tutorial books and a sketchpad. I'm pretty sure he liked it since I got a quick peck on the cheek and a mumbled thanks instead of a glare and a new bruise. I found myself whistling as I walked to work that day.

_"What's got you all in a happy mood?"_

_"Nothing."_

_"Green, you scare me sometimes."_

Every now and then we happen to run out of coffee. These days are the worst, though only for me because Red would rather drop dead than drink coffee. He thinks it is poison; the devils incarnate in liquid form. He always scrunches up his face whenever he smells it. However, coffee is a necessity for me and without it I would cease functioning. I'm personally a fan of the quadruple espresso. It's like a double espresso, except you press the espresso button twice. Then you add eight packets of sugar so it doesn't taste like ass. Well, on these coffeeless days it would take 100 times more willpower to get myself over to the Viridian Gym for another torturous day of work and ends with me making any of that day's challengers cry themselves to sleep and be left with emotionally traumatic memories which may very well cause them to cringe at random times many years in the future upon remembering the incident. Nowadays I just call into work, faking some sort of illness when we run out of coffee, sparing the hopes and dreams of young children. It's probably for the best.

On rare occasions, I come home from work to have Red bury his face in my shirt before I even get through the door and not let me leave him alone for several hours. It's usually these times when he is upset or has been most likely thinking too much. He sometimes has nightmares so that could very well be the reason behind it. I like these kinds of days as well because seeing him vulnerable every now and then reminds me that even though we've saved the world a couple of times we're still human.

And on the rarest occasions of all a small, but genuine smile will creep its way onto his face and he'll laugh.

As dorky as it sounds, it's these things that make me realize how much I love the abusive idiot.


End file.
